


This Is Not Enough

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [36]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, akificlets, future!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>itunes roulette: 93: Stiles – All The Things She Said by TaTu</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Not Enough

Stiles was older now; dust on his boots, a knife near to hand and an edge to his smile. He tried not to keep any patterns, so this wasn’t any anniversary, any date that could be researched, discovered, marked out.

It was a Thursday, overcast, first taste of snow on the breeze. The last blades of summer grass crunched underfoot as he walked across the cemetery to the first pair of graves: Stilinski, beloved mother, loving husband and father. Side-by-side and somewhere where Stiles’ life could do them no more harm.

Scott’s grave was neatly kept, grass trimmed, fresh flowers. Allison, maybe: Melissa left town long ago.

The knife’s handle felt worn and soft against his palm. Stiles tightened his grip as he stood up. “Fancy seeing you here,” he smiled, eyes cold, waiting until the last moment to turn towards the deliberate noise.

Derek looked older, first tints of grey in his hair, lines around his eyes and mouth – being Alpha never sat well on his shoulders, and it was starting to show. Derek didn’t smile back. “You back?” he asked, like he always did. This time, the hopefulness was closer to the surface than usual.

Stiles wasn’t a cruel man, at least not needlessly. “No,” he said quickly, dashing that hope before it could rise much further. “Just passing through.”

He was always just passing through, pausing just long enough to banish a banshee or stake a vamp, or tell a gravestone sorry one more time.

Derek nodded, eyes downcast. They played out this little scene every time their paths crossed, they both knew their lines.

“How are the pack?” Stiles asked, though he didn’t really want to know. They chose this life; yet they were the ones to have a life. Once upon a time, Stiles called them friends, maybe even family. Now he was just deeply, madly jealous of them, when he could spare them any feeling at all.

“Boyd’s a father again. A boy,” Derek choked out.

“Say hi. And bye,” Stiles said, palming his knife again and turning away. Derek was the only werewolf he’d show his back to, the only concession to those years running together, before everything went bad.

He stopped dead when Derek said his name. His real name.

Stiles’ hadn’t heard it in so long. He’d forgotten Derek even knew it.

Derek’s hand was warm and heavy on his arm, and damn near too much for Stiles to carry. “What will it take,” Derek asked, going off script, damn him. “What will it take to bring you home?”

Stiles closed his eyes and gestured at the gravestones. “Can you undo this?” They were close enough that Stiles could hear Derek’s throat move as he swallowed hard. “No. Then nothing.” He forced himself to shake off Derek’s hand. “I don’t get a home until they bring me back here for keeps.”

He was almost off the grass when Derek called after him. “I meant what I said, that night,” he called out, and Stiles knew Derek could hear the way his heart skipped a beat. “I’ll leave a light on for you.”

Stiles knew he would. He forced himself to keep breathing, calm and steady, and walked back into the darkness.


End file.
